Resisting the Urge to Quit

Well, my aiming device hasn’t been doing me much good. Two Fridays straight, I got knocked out of a local tournament because I missed easy shots on the 8-ball. I say “easy” meaning they would’ve been easy 40 years ago. Right now, nothing’s easy. I swear to God, I can’t see the contact point on a straight in shot. Mind boggling! Sometimes I think somewhere along the line someone put a curse on me. I mean, I stare at the balls but can’t for the life of me see them in relationship to a pocket. Once upon a time, this was all automatic. I’d glance at the object ball and immediately see the contact point. Then, I’d look at the cue ball and visualize it at the same angle as the object ball. Then whack, I’d pocket the ball. How does one go about losing the ability to get the pool balls facing a pocket? I’ll never know. What I do know is that it gets awfully frustrating, losing week after week to players who can barely hold a cue. Sure, the bar rules are crazy, but the rules only matter when you miss.

What’s my next step? Well, I’ve set my little disk on a table with the center line aiming for the corner of the table. Along the path to the corner, I’ve centered a poker chip. What I’m going to do is spend several minutes every day meditating on the angles and the lines. Sort of the way those 60’s hippie freaks used to study candles, except there’s a method to my madness. Hopefully, in time something will jell. I’ll let you know.